


Amortentia

by shutupmoriarty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Potterlock, Teenlock, slightly implied Johnlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupmoriarty/pseuds/shutupmoriarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Sherlock and John are tired of seeing Mycroft and Greg pine over each other but not doing anything about it so they use multiple methods, such as amortentia, locking them in broom closets etc. until finally Greg gets tired of it all and just kisses Mycroft and tells him how he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amortentia

"Go on, now," John whispered as he slipped into his seat beside Sherlock in the Great Hall. "While he's distracted."   
With a grin and a nod, Sherlock uncapped a tiny vial he'd taken from their Potions class the previous day, and emptied it into his brother's morning pumpkin juice. Mycroft, deep in conversation with the Gryffindor who'd come to him for homework help, didn't appear to notice.   
A few moments later, the Gryffindor thanked Mycroft with a smile and made her way back to her friends, holding her books under one arm. John gave Sherlock a knowing grin as Mycroft tipped back his goblet, draining the last of the pumpkin juice inside, and stood up.   
"Do try not to irritate Professor..." Mycroft began, trailing off as his eyes glazed over. "Do either of you know where Gregory is?" he asked instead, hardly sparing the duo a glance as he searched the Hall.   
Barely managing to suppress his laughter, John pointed over to the table that Greg Lestrade was sharing with two of his friends, Toby Gregson and Molly Hooper. Not stopping to thank John, Mycroft hurried over, robes billowing behind him. John and Sherlock dissolved into giggles over their plates.  
"Gregory," Mycroft called loudly as he approached Greg's table. "Gregory, I must speak with you immediately. I have come to a rather sudden conclusion about you." Heads turned at Mycroft's approach, partly due to the volume of the sixth-year's voice, partly because they felt that, with his elevated Prefect status, he might have something important to say.  
Mycroft dropped into a chair between Molly and Greg and turned to face the Hufflepuff boy, a look of complete and utter seriousness etched onto his features. "Gregory, there is something of import which you must know immediately." The Ravenclaw sucked in a breath, meeting Greg's eyes steadily. "I am in love with you - that is to say, I have been in love with you for many months now, and - Where are you going?" He frowned, eyes following Greg as he stood up.  
"Back to my dorm," Greg hissed, face burning as the groups of students who had been within earshot of the conversation burst out laughing. Greg hurried out of the Hall and back towards the kitchens, leaving Mycroft sitting dumbfounded for a moment before he heard a set of giggles that he recognised, and turned to face Sherlock.   
"What in Merlin's name did you do?" he growled at his brother, who quickly scurried out of Mycroft's reach and towards the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room. Mycroft pursued him angrily, cheeks flaming.

*****

"Amortentia," Professor Slughorn began the Potions lesson, "is the most powerful love potion in the world. Can anybody tell me what it does, its effects on the drinker, or its characteristics? Ah, Mr Holmes?" He gesutred at Mycroft, who had immediately raised his hand.  
"It causes a powerful infatuation - close to obsession - within the drinker. The drinker appears pale and sickly, and immediately begins to talk about the object of their affections, wishing to see them as soon as possible," Mycroft stated as though reading from his textbook, deliberately avoiding looking across the classroom to where the Hufflepuffs were seated. The basic love potion that Sherlock had slipped him had worn off a few minutes after he'd left the hall, although his brother had still received a stern talking-to. "It is characterised," he continued, "by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen, and the steam which rises from it in spirals. It also gives off a different odour to everyone who smells it, reminding them of the things they find the most attractive, even if they do not know it themselves."   
"Excellent, yes," Slughorn beamed, "Ten points to Ravenclaw! Yes, yes, that perfectly describes Amortentia. Now, would anybody like to volunteer to come and take a whiff of this," he nodded at the cauldron on his desk, "and tell me what they smell?"   
Both Greg and Mycroft raised their hands, along with most of the rest of the class. "All right, one at a time, then," Slughorn nodded, beckoning the first Hufflepuff table up. They volunteered everything from toothpaste to chocolate. Slowly, Slughorn worked around the class. Mycroft's table came before Greg's, and he leaned over the cauldron and inhaled.   
"I smell... Black coffee, parchment, and..." he paused, taking another sniff, "some sort of perfume, perhaps?" Slughorn nodded, and Mycroft moved back to his seat.   
When Greg's table's turn came, Mycroft was just close enough to hear what each of them said. He shushed the rest of his own table so that he would be sure to catch Greg's. The silver-haired Hufflepuff took a sniff of the potion. "Cake, or cake mix, um... I think that's rain... and..." he swallowed, shaking his head. "I'm not sure what the last one is..."  
"All right, Gregory, back to your table," Slughorn nodded, waving him away. "You are all going to attempt to make Amortentia today, or to get as far as you can with it. Page two hundred and forty eight of your textbooks, please..."  
Mycroft stopped paying attention then, stealing glances over the classroom at Greg. He knew that the other boy had lied about not knowing the final scent that the Amortentia gave him, in much the same way that he'd twisted the truth by saying it was perfume he'd smelled. He knew that his final smell was the one that accompanied Greg. He hadn't smelled it anywhere else. He spent the rest of the lesson silently working on the potion, and was the first one out of the classroom when the bell rang.   
He made his way down towards the Great Hall for lunch, but paused when he heard somebody calling him. Turning, he spotted Greg hurrying through the milling crowds towards him.  
"Mycroft, wait!" the Hufflepuff called, sighing in relief as Mycroft turned. "I need to talk to you. Can we... Is there somewhere private we can go?"  
Mycroft looked around, spotting a broom cupboard. "Will that do?" he asked, nodding to it. Greg followed his line of vision and nodded, and they made their way over and slipped inside.  
Moments later, as Greg opened his mouth, they heard the lock click behind them. Mycroft moved and twisted the handle.  
"We're locked in," he stated dully, turning back and plodding into the cupboard proper.  
"What do you mean we're locked in?" Greg asked, feeling his face heat up in the half-darknes of the broom closet. "Can't you - " he pushed past Mycroft a little impatiently. "Alohomora," he said confidently, pointing his wand at the door.   
When nothing happened after a few moments of the Hufflepuff standing there, wand raised, Greg deflated a little. He slowly lowered his wand and turned to face Mycroft, who had already taken a seat on a crate and was watching Greg curiously. "Oh, shut up," Greg muttered before the Ravenclaw boy had a chance to say anything. He took a seat opposite Mycroft, their knees brushing in the cramped space.  
After a few minutes, Mycroft's posture loosened and he leaned properly against the wall. Greg looked up from where he'd been picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his robe. Mycroft cleared his throat. "I would like to apologise for my, ah... behaviour... this morning," he began, "I have reason to believe that Sherlock... " his cheeks reddened a little, "spiked my pumpkin juice."  
Greg just looked at him, the smallest of smiles playing across his lips. "Oh?"  
Mycroft's blush deepened, but before he had a chance to reply Greg had leaned across the small space between them and brushed his lips across the Ravenclaw's. Mycroft froze for a moment, but leaned closer rather than pulling away, which gave Greg all of the incentive he needed to carry on, and he pressed his lips more firmly to Mycroft's.   
As if it had been waiting all along for this, the lock of the broom cupboard clicked open amid what sounded suspiciously like two sets of laughter retreating down the corridor. Greg pulled back with a smile. "That wasn't so difficult, was it?" he asked, and Mycroft shook his head once, quickly.  
"I... No, it was... Rather... Agreeable," Mycroft managed in response. "Was that what you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, loosening his tie a little as Greg slipped out of the cupboard with a wolfy grin and a nod. Mycroft followed a second later, and slipped his hand into the Hufflepuff's waiting one as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Saz (moriartysteagirl on Tumblr)


End file.
